Can We Get This Back
by cartersdaughter
Summary: Based on the song "Used To" by Daughtry. How do Sam and Dean get back to their oneness and synchronization after time apart. Right now, just Dean picking up Sam from Stanford but might add more episodes later.


**Wrote this after listening to the song, "Used To" by Daughtry. The song really made me think of Sam and Dean's relationship after Dean picked Sam up from Stanford. Wondered what Sam and Dean were thinking after they got back together. How had their relationship changed after not talking to each other for two years? How were they able to slip back into the working relationship of the first few episodes of season one?**

 _You used to talk to me like I was the only one around. You used to lean on me like the only other choice was falling down. You used to walk with like we had nowhere we needed to go._

Dean reached out a hand then quickly pulled it back turning to shut the motel room door behind him instead.

He wasn't sure Sam wanted to be comforted. He wasn't sure what Sam wanted. What Sam needed.

He used to know everything about his little brother. What every move, every nuance, every breath, every piece of body language about Sam meant. But since they had been back together Dean wasn't sure what signals he was sending or receiving anymore. He was at a loss. Two years of not talking had left a huge gap in his big brother senses. He had always been able to be the one person Sam could talk to no matter the situation: whether it had been the time Sam had learn about hunting, the first time he had kissed a girl, even the choice to leave behind the only life he'd even known to strike out on his own to become his own person at one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

Now his brother was silent. No talking, no non-verbal cues either.

Sam had just lost the one thing, person, Dean mentally corrected himself, who had meant probably meant the world to him. Not that the older brother would have any clue. Using the synchronicity he had developed over eighteen years of living with his little brother plus the additional two years of spying, Dean had detected more than just a passing fancy for this girl with Sam. He had deep feelings for her; maybe even "spend the rest of their lives together" feelings.

But she was gone, incinerated with the rest of Sam's "normal" life in a blaze that had nearly claimed Sam as well.

And Dean had absolutely no idea how to make it better.

Two years of no communication other than sneaky visits to campus to see his brother not only alive and well but flourishing in a new environment had left Dean completely out of his element.

He was used to an emotional Sam. One who would get angry at their dad for another move either screaming at the top of his lungs throwing things into his duffle bag as though they'd personally wronged him, wanting to throw punches but also wanting to prove himself the mature adult so choosing to seethe in the backseat of the Impala rather than punch a hole through the bathroom wall of the motel room before they left. One who quietly wept over a missed school dance and a disappointed girlfriend left behind then swiped away the tears before Dad could see because Winchester men sucked it up and moved on.

But this Sam, a cold robotic shut down version of his brother, mechanically going through the motions. This Sam, Dean had no experience with. He didn't know how to deal with it or what to do.

 _At least there's you, at least there's me. Can we get this back?_

Start with something simple.

Get Sam to shower and get the smell of death and smoke off of him. Dean set his duffle on the bed closest to the door. At least that hadn't changed. Sam had automatically taken the bed farthest from the door. Whether by choice or from habit Dean didn't know and he didn't care. It was a step in the right direction.

A step back to being who they used to be.

 _I used to reach for you when I got lost along the way. I used to listen. You always had the just right thing to say. I used to follow you. Never cared where we would go._

Dean pulled out a toiletry bag, yes it was his, but what it did matter as long as it got his brother clean. He held it out to Sam.

"Go shower. You'll feel better."

"But Dean this is…"

"Take it. Go." Sam hand reached out and snaked around the toiletry bag, and Dean could almost see a smaller Sam reaching to take the toothpaste wanting to brush his teeth like a big boy for the first time or wanting help to tie his shoes. This time he didn't hesitate to place his hands on his little brother's shoulders steering him toward the tiny motel bathroom. "Wash up. You'll feel better. I promise."

 _We used to have this under control. We never thought; we used to know._

Sam nodded. Going into the bathroom, he shut the door behind him holding back his sobs until he heard Dean's footsteps retreat.

Before Stanford he would have never thought about hiding his emotions from his older brother. He would have automatically reached out to Dean for comfort and security. He wanted nothing more than to do that now.

But now, they had been apart so long, gone so long without communicating, it was like rooming with a stranger. They had to find their dynamic, their oneness again. But that was pre-Stanford, pre-Jess, pre- giant blow-out with Dad. How could they possibly get back to that?

 _I look around me, and I want you to be there 'cause I miss the things that we shared. Look around you. It's empty, and you're sad 'cause you miss the love that we had._

As Sam showered washing away the grime, he wiped away all the memories of Stanford.

He was sure his brother was thinking his time away was all sunshine and roses. But it hadn't been, especially after they had first decided limited communication was the best thing for everyone. Sam had felt completely cut off, abandoned, and alone. He would see a classic car or a gorgeous women, a new action movie or crazy flavor of pie and immediately want to pick up the phone and dial his big brother.

Dean had always been the first person to know when Sam had gotten a good grade or had a bad day at school. Dean had helped him stumble through complicated school projects and talked him through how to deal with difficult teachers. But after their agreement, Sam had literally had to remove number one from his speed dial, making Jess number two. He left the number one spot blank and empty with no explanation much to his girlfriend's dismay. But Dean would always be his number one no matter how long they had been apart. Sam wondered if his brother felt the same way. He hoped so. How where they supposed to do this? So much had happened in such a short span of time that Sam didn't even know how to broach the subject of them being brothers again. He let his tears mingle with the shower stream until the water turned cold.

 _We used to have this figured out; we used to breathe without a doubt…At least there's you, and at least there's me. Can we get this back to how it used to be?_

Getting dressed in the clothes his brother had left for him by the door, Sam headed back in the motel room. Dean was studious focused on a rerun of the _X-Files_ , avoiding any look in his brother's direction.

Sam heaved a deep sigh, glancing first at his own bed then down at the toiletry bag resting in his hands.

"Sam, you okay?"

"Huh?"

"You okay?"

Sam shook his head.

Dean waited for him to elaborate. When silence followed the head shake, the older Winchester figured it was time to play twenty questions. He missed the days when he knew what Sam was thinking just from looking in his eyes. "Hungry?"

Another head shake.

"Tired."

Head shake.

Dean bit his lip to hold in an exasperated sigh, more at himself than Sam. How had he let himself become so rusty? He used to know everything about Sam. They used to breathe at the same time. He used to be able to take care of Sam without a thought, sometimes even sensing what was wrong with his little brother before Sam even knew there was anything wrong. Dean got up from the bed and walked over to where his younger brother had stopped halfway between the bathroom and beds. He placed a hand on his toiletry bag to take it back, fairly certain Sam's original intention had been to return the bag to him.

But the moment their hands connected instead of holding the toiletry bag a stunned Dean found himself holding a sobbing mess of now six foot plus little brother.

"She's gone Dean. She's really gone. Everything. Everything's gone."

"Maybe not, Sammy. We'll go check, later. After the fire department clears out, okay. We'll see what we can find, okay. I'm sure there's something left. We'll find you something to remember her by, little brother."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course. I got ya. Everything's gonna be all right. I know she's gone. It sucks. I can't imagine what you're going through right now. But we're gonna get through this. You and me together, just like we always do. I'm gonna be right here the whole time. But you call the shots. Whether you want to go back to the apartment or not. Whether we veg out and watch _X-Files_ and eat pizza or browse the bookstores. Totally your call dude. I'm here to support you 100 percent."

"You always were the one person I could count on."

"It's a two way street Sammy."

Feeling Sam relax in his arms, Dean knew he had regained his little brother's trust if he'd ever really lost it in the first place. And Sam knew he had his big brother's support whatever decisions he decided to make in the coming days. It had been years, but maybe they could get it back. They could get back to being the gruesome twosome they had always been. They'd get back on the road saving people, hunting things, crisscrossing the country going wherever they chose

 _When nights were clear, you were the first star that I'd see…Can we get this back to how it used to be?_

 **Let me know what you think. Thinking of adding more chapters to this: possibly Dean coming back from Hell, Sam coming back from the cage, or the brothers meeting up in season 8.  
**


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